Seeing Without Sight
by Death Phoenix
Summary: Nightstrike liked to keep himself busy when he knew his lovers, his friends, and his trine-mate were out somewhere doing something dangerous without him there with them. He just didn't think this would happen. Set after Origins. G1verse.


Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or anything associated with Transformers. I do own Nightstrike.

xxxxx

Nightstrike had been feeling more than a little edgy since he left recharge early that morning. He knew better than to ignore his instincts, really he did, but sometimes there is no stopping the bad things from happening. While admittedly he could have foreseen what was going to happen that didn't stop him from wishing he could.

The day started out rather typically in that the Decepticons, or rather Megatron, had decided that the majority of the Decepticon Army needed to be out that day on energy raids. Thus, a large majority of the Autobots were dispatched to stop them. Seeing as the Decepticon gestalts, those being the Stunticons, the Constructicons, and the Combaticons had been brought into play the Aerialbots, the Protectobots, and the Dinobots had been sent to counter them. In fact, the only mechs in the Ark at the moment were Wheeljack, Nightstrike, Red Alert, Inferno, Beachcomber, Perceptor, and an injured Tracks. It had become common practice since Nightstrike arrived that there always be at least one medic, or someone with at least some medical training, on board the Ark in case of emergencies.

It would prove to be a very smart decision. Good thing Ratchet and Prowl thought of it, though what happened that day was probably not what they had in mind when they thought of this new protocol.

xxxxx

Nightstrike liked to keep himself busy when he knew his lovers, his friends, and his trine-mate were out somewhere doing something dangerous without him there with them. With Tracks in a medically induced stasis-lock, the med-bay and the various equipment clean and ready for use, and his sensors on alert for any change in Tracks, Nightstrike decided to head down to Wheeljack's lab seeing as he was not needed in the med-bay. He was joined shortly by Wheeljack who had just returned from the rec-room with some fresh energon.

The experimental energy field generator they were working on was in a delicate stage of development, meaning they were actually putting it together, a test model that is. It was a perfect time to do so because they were guaranteed no interruptions of any kind until their fellow Autobots returned from hopefully thwarting the Decepticons. Both mechs became very engrossed in both the lively dicussion they were holding and in the very delicate work they were doing. If they could get the energy field working they might be able to completely shield the Ark from not only enemy fire but also infiltration.

Seeing as the project was highly experimental and dealing with raw energy as well both of the engineers were being extra careful with the project. The entire lab was locked down so that no one could disturb them at a critical moment. In fact, the only one who could override the lock-down or get in contact with them was Red Alert. Nightstrike had informed the Security Director of the nature of their project and had asked his friend to make sure no one diturbed them, as unlikely as that would be, and to make sure to watch the lab in case anything went wrong.

Not that Red Alert needed to be told to do something he would have done anyway but it did make him a little happy to know Nightstrike trusted him to watch over them as the two engineers worked.

xxxxx

Taking a brief break, Nightstrike carefully moved to get some needed components while Wheeljack surveyed the work they had already done with expectant optics. As he moved a twinge of warning struck Nightstrike. The further he moved away from Wheeljack the stronger the feeling, but the feeling got more urgent as he abruptly moved back toward the good-natured engineer who was looking over their unfinished project.

Knowing something was setting his danger instincts off Nightstrike scanned the lab with his sensors, even going so far as to release the dampeners more than he usually did. It was with a feeling of great horror that an almost stunned Nightstrike understood the message that both his sensors and his struggling processor were telling him. The source of the danger was the unfinished project that both of them were standing close to, though Wheeljack was closer.

The last thing Wheeljack saw before the world exploded with a ferocious roar and then went dark was Nightstrike reaching out to him with an almost fearful air about him. He left consciousness with Nightstrike's frantic scream ringing in his audios and the feeling of extreme heat then no more.

"Red!"

Boooom!!

xxxxx

Red Alert's attention veered sharply over to the monitor that showed Wheeljack's lab on its screen. His attention had been drawn by Nightstrike's movement in the lab. He had been about to turn his attention elsewhere when he saw Nightstrike freeze then hurry back toward Wheeljack. Curiousity over the visored mech's swift movement turned into outright alarm when Nightstrike dropped the components in his hands to the floor and began to reach out to the absent-minded engineer in the lab with him.

Hearing Nightstrike scream out the first part of his designation, the small nickname that Nightstrike always used when they were not on duty, brought Red Alert out of his state of alarm enough to begin to take action. But he could react fast enough to not be forced to watch Wheeljack's lab explode in a truly horrific display before being engulfed in fire. The blast was so strong that it reverberated throughout the whole Ark causing it to physically shake.

Red Alert really didn't need to tell the other three mechs who were definitely online that help was needed in Wheeljack's lab but he did so anyway so that they knew of the severity of the situation. Something like this just had to happen when there was barely a skeleton crew aboard. Thankfully, Inferno was one of the few mechs to stay behind this time. Unfortunately the only ones qualified or capable of fixing the injured were the ones caught in the explosion.

xxxxx

None of the four mechs who were trying to save their comrades were really prepared for the scene in front of them when they forced the lab doors open. Nightstrike was struggling to reach Wheeljack's prone form even though the medic's left leg from the knee joint down was covered in what could only be classified as molten slag, which wasn't a bad description for Wheeljack either. It seemed that Wheeljack had caught the brunt of the explosion but Nightstrike had caught the brunt of the debris.

There were dents and scrapes in various sizes practically covering Nightstrike's frame, not to mention his visor was cracked beyond repair. But still the medic tried his hardest to help Wheeljack while trying to keep them both away from the fire growing in intensity around them and thus keep them both alive. Wheeljack's whole frame looked as if it had melted and warped together into a giant mess. Nightstrike's struggles became even more frantic and determined when sparks began to become visible all around his friend's frame.

It was a sign that several wire had been split badly be the force of the explosion but the medic was far more worried by the state of his fellow engineer's armor. By the way it looked to be warped he feared that more than a few of the energon and coolant lines had sealed shut because of the heat. His biggest fears though were that some of Wheeljack's inner components had fused together around his spark casing or that some of his armor had melted enough to actually get into his spark casing.

That couldn't and wouldn't happen as long as he could get to his downed friend.

xxxxx

Nightstrike felt a small, very small, amount of relief when the lab door opened and Inferno entered to begin putting out the flames and rescue Wheeljack and himself. It was easy to see the relief all four of his rescuers felt at seeing him conscious. That made it apparent that they too had been a little panicky at the thought of two seriously injured mechs on their hands with no medical help in sight or communication range.

Inferno and Red Alert were the only ones who didn't show surprise when Nightstrike willing amputated the lower left part of his leg with his own hands and a little help from Inferno who had experience with such things and with Nightstrike in particular. The fire truck knew how far his fellow Wrecker would go to help a comrade and he knew this whole situation and everything involved with it was going to upset more than a few 'Bots.

Wheeljack was in really bad shape and Nightstrike wasn't much better off. With Soundwave cutting off communications there was no way to get in contact with any of their fellow Autobots to request one of the other medics to come back to the Ark as fast as they could.

Wheeljack's life and very spark was left in the hands of the injured Nightstrike who refused to let the Chief Engineer die when he could prevent it.

xxxxx

Nightstrike never thanked Primus for the sensitivity of his sensors or his neural-net or his habitual non-use of his optics, which were pretty much scrap at this point though they were now hidden by a spare visor, as much as he did at that moment. He was effectively immobile with no left leg to stand on but thankfully his hands, arms, and coordination had not been effected or injured. While it was true that he was in an excruciating amount of pain, which he couldn't really do anything about without offlining the sensors he needed to work on Wheeljack, he pushed it to the back of his processors. He had dealt with pain like this before and even worse pain so he could live and work with it right now. Wheeljack and the others were depending on him to save the engineer.

Currently the only ones in the med-bay with him were the stasis-locked Tracks, the severely injured Wheeljack, and Perceptor who was the one acting as his legs at the moment because he was the only one who could identify the tools he needed on sight. Inferno was still putting out the fire, Red Alert had to go back to the security monitors because if ever there was a perfect time for Decepticons to attack now was the time, and Beachcomber was in the Communications Room trying to get in contact with their comrades.

The visored medic didn't dare open the link between himself and Jazz for fear of distracting his trine-mate at a critical time. It was customary for them to mute the bond between them when any of them were about to go into combat or on a mission. So much so that it was an ingrained action. All three trine-mates were aware of how badly things could go if they ditracted each other through their bond. As such Nightstrike tightly closed off the link between Jazz and himself. He couldn't risk Wheeljack's life, his very spark, with a fatal distraction.

Nightstrike had really never been this frantic in his life, at least that he could remember. Of course he had never really been in a situation quite like this one. Or it could have been that time had muted those experiences because Primus knows his trine-mates had nearly scared the spark out of him on more than one occasion. And he had done the same to them.

He was working as fast as he could to fix the extensive damage Wheeljack had taken. The Chief Engineer would have to practically be rebuilt but right now Nightstrike was far more concerned with keeping him alive and getting him in stable condition. He prayed feverently to Primus as he worked, focusing entirely on Wheeljack and only paying attention to anything else when when he needed parts or tools. Wheeljack needed him, even as crippled and as battered as he was.

He was a medic with a patient in need of care and he wasn't going to stop trying to save the mech in front of him because of the conditon he was in.

He also thanked Primus that his sensors hadn't been damaged along with his little used optics or no one would be able to save 'Jack.

xxxxx

It seemed like forever before Beachcomber was able to hail any Autobot. And in his absolute relief in finally getting in contact with anyone he ended up contacting all of those not on the Ark at the moment even though he was only trying to get in touch with Optimus.

Nightstrike had been battling for Wheeljack's life for over a joor.

"Oh thank Primus I finally got a hold of you Optimus! We need Ratchet back at the Ark as fast as he can get here!" No one had ever heard the usually very mellow Beachcomber sound so frazzled or panicked. It sent a feeling of foreboding through more than one spark, as did the implications of Ratchet being the one urgently needed.

Weren't Wheeljack and Nightstrike on the Ark? Wouldn't they be more than enough to take care of any medical emergencies?

Not if they're the ones who are the medical emergency.

"Beachcomber what is the situation?" Optimus was trying valiantly to be calm for the various mechs in front of him who looked to be becoming more alarmed as time went by. Of course that calm was very sorely tested when Beachcomber's reply was broadcast to all of them.

"Nightstrike and Wheeljack were in Wheeljack's lab working on their latest joint project. Red Alert was watching them like Nightstrike asked, like he always asks. Nightstrike apparently felt like something was wrong because he tried to warn Wheeljack and did manage warn Red Alert. What ever they were working on exploded spectacularly. The Ark actually shook the blast was so bad and the lab caught on fire immediately afterwards. By the time we got to them Wheeljack looked like molten slag. Nightstrike looked so battered there wasn't any paint on him at all as if it had been stripped from his frame, not to mention he now has no left leg beneath the knee joint. Nightstrike was online when we got to them and was caught under one of the ceiling reinforcements that had fallen. He amputated his own leg to get to Wheeljack. He and Perceptor are in the med-bay trying to save Wheeljack right now. They have been for over a joor."

Horror was something that was felt by every one of the Ark crew listening to Beachcomber's words. But the horror wasn't finished yet. Beachcomber had left the Ark's overhead-comm to the med-bay open and on so that he could hear any news without distracting Nightstrike. That connection had stayed open when the geologist got in contact with Optimus and the rest of the Autobots. So they were all able to hear exactly what happened next in the med-bay.

Nightstrike's voice came across the comm-link. But in a way that few had ever heard. Nightstrike did not curse, he did not speak in a pain-slurred voice, he did not let frustration or fear color his words, and he most certainly did not yell. At least not normally. This was a special occasion.

"Frag-damnit 'Jack! Fight ya sorry slagger! Don't ya dare give up on me! I swear ta Primus tha' if ya do I'll drag ya back from th' Matrix myself ta let Ratchet beat your aft for leavin'!" There was a brief pause before a sudden burst of hurried activity could be heard. "No! No! No! Frag! Frag! Frag! Percy grab th' electro-emitter now! We 'ave ta keep his spark from goin' out!"

Hearing that got everyone's afts in gear. In fact, many would be hard-pressed to recall a time where everyone moved out as fast as they did in response to Nightstrike and Wheeljack's plights.

They were all Autobots after all and comrades even if some of them couldn't get along.

xxxxx

The sight that met Ratchet's optics when he entered the med-bay at a dead run made his spark twist in pain. Beachcomber hadn't even come close in really describing the truly horrible condition Nightstrike and Wheeljack were in. It was obvious that the only things keeping Nightstrike online right now were his steel will, his desire to save Wheeljack, and the energon drip that Perceptor had obviously hooked him up to. It was also equally obvious that Nightstrike had done his absolute best for the Chief Engineer even in his condition. The only thing keeping the visor-wearing medic upright and able to work was the repair table that had obvious been hurriedly modified so that he could reach all of the Lancia he was operating on.

Primus had to be smiling on them because it seemed that Nightstrike had been able to stabilize Wheeljack enough so that he wasn't in immediate danger of dying but Ratchet needed to take over. And take over he did. The CMO could feel the relief and absolute weariness flowing off Nightstrike in waves as Ratchet made his presence known, as did First Aid and Swoop who had both been right behind Ratchet.

"He's all yours now Ratchet. Don't let all my hard work go down th' drain." The gentle teasing from their friend would have been reassuring if he hadn't preceded to collapse the astro-second Ratchet took the tools from Nightstrike's hands.

Not even a klik after Nightstrike collapsed and was put into First Aid and Swoop's care the med-bay doors opened to admit Optimus Prime, Prowl, and Jazz. Ratchet almost yelled at them to get the frag out of his med-bay but he had more important things to attend to at the moment. They could stay for a klik or two before they got kicked out so they had something to tell the others. The last thing the CMO needed to deal with at the moment was those sorry fraggers that were probably crowding the hall coming in the med-bay while he had two patients in critical condition.

xxxxx

Jazz was almost sure his spark skipped a pulse in nasty shock as he surveyed his damaged trine-mate. Just seeing the damage made he realize how skilled Nightstrike was at closing off their bond because he hadn't felt a thing. He hadn't known anything was wrong until Beachcomber had gotten in contact with them. He would have known if they could properly re-establish their bond but their third wasn't on Earth and they could do nothing about that.

Something about the whole situation seemed off somehow but he wasn't sure what. To know that he would have to wait until Nightstrike was online again. Nothing had ever exploded thing badly before and barely anything had exploded at all since Nightstrike had begun to work with Wheeljack. His dark trine-mate was able to catch any little mistake or accident before it caused an explosion most of the time. The explosions that had happened had been minor and the visored medic had been able to repair Wheeljack in his own lab with no problems.

Further observation, in-depth and intimate knowledge of his trine-mate, and nudging open their bond slightly told Jazz all he needed to know about Nightstrike's injuries and what had caused him to collapse as well as stay offline.

"First Aid, Swoop, one of ya need ta move so I can turn his sensors and neural-net offline."

Every conscious mech in the med-bay looked up at Jazz in alarm. With the amount of damage Nightstrike had taken the medic had to be in absolute agony. It seemed ridiculous that the Trans Am had left them on while working on Wheeljack. Well it did until Jazz gave them the answer to their unspoken thoughts.

"Pain means nothin' when th' life of someone ya care 'bout is in danger. Pain can be overcome and ignored wit' practice."

The implications of Jazz's last sentence were a little unsettling but put aside as the saboteur deftly but gently touch the downed medic to temporarily offline sensors while activating a special sub-routine that would bring them back online as soon as Nightstrike onlined. He was aware that the pain was a small price to pay in Nightstrike's optics and he didn't blame his trine-mate at all. He was much the same way. Besides he knew he would have to come back to fix Nightstrike's optics. Because as much as they both trust Ratchet their optics were almost sacred to them. The only ones who would ever see their optics were each other and if things went right eventually their spark-mates.

"I better get goin'. Th' Twins an' Blue will probably feel better if I tell how 'Strike is myself. I'll be back later Ratch when 'Strike onlines. I'll know when." And then Jazz was gone from the med-bay with Prowl right behind him. The saboteur really had no time to dawdle, especially with his trine-mate's lovers involved. He had seen the look in their optics when the full meaning of Beachcomber's words had finally been understood. And he knew just where to find them.

xxxxx

Sideswipe knew just where to go when they returned to the Ark. There was no way Ratchet would let any of them into the med-bay no matter how hurt Nightstrike was. So they could either wait for Jazz and Prowl come find them with news of their dark lover or they could go straight to the Security Room. There was absolutely no way Red Alert wasn't monitoring the med-bay, not with Nightstrike and Wheeljack in there. The scarlet Lamborghini was more than well aware of his lover's habit of asking Red Alert to keep an optic on the labs when he and Wheeljack were working, especially when they were working in Wheeljack's lab.

So he steered Sunstreaker and Bluestreak towards Red Alert's domain. They might not have been able to be with there lover but they could see him, even if it was through the screen of a monitor.

As he predicted Red Alert put up no fuss when they showed up. The Security Director had been expecting them to show up some time after the Autobots that had left for battle that morning had arrived back in groups depending on their varying speeds. It didn't surprise Red Alert to see them right behind Ratchet, First Aid, and Swoop who had all arrived on Skyfire.

He hadn't expected them to get to the Security Room before the medics reached the med-bay but their alt-modes were faster. So the Twins and Bluestreak got to see Nightstrike collapse and hear that he had willingly been in a large amount of pain for quite some time so that he could save Wheeljack. Hearing that come out of Jazz's vocalizer had not garnered pleasant reactions, but neither had seeing their lover's collapse or his horrid condition. It looked as some great power had come by and forcefully, harshly scraped the paint from Nightstrike's frame leaving behind a dented, damaged metallic silver that gleamed dully in the light of the med-bay.

The Twins were used to losing limbs in battle; it had happened to them on numerous occasions. But the section of their lover's leg that was missing was self-amputated in an effort to get to Wheeljack in time. This incident showed all of those on board how dedicated Nightstrike was, and how loyal. Nightstrike was worthy of respect, they just didn't know how much just yet, but they would find out. After all, there was no way the medic's heroic efforts and sacrifice were going to remain untold.

xxxxx

Prowl followed behind his lover as Jazz took them to the Security Room. It had hurt to see his friend on the repair table. Something about the situation rubbed him the wrong way and from the tension in his usually laid-back lover's frame he wasn't the only one who thought so. But there really wasn't much either one of them could do until Nightstrike was back online again.

As Jazz's lover as well as Nightstrike's friend he was privileged with certain information. He knew that they would Nightstrike to help them solve the mystery that surrounded the explosion. Not only were the visored medic's sensors probably needed but his expertise, in more than one area. Which would result in Optimus and most likely several others finding out just what Nightstrike did, along with Jazz and their third trine-mate. Because really, those three seemed to be caught right in the middle of the war.

With the dangerous jobs they did Prowl was ready to put up with almost anything for either one of them.

When they arrived Prowl could see the tension thrumming through the Twins. They were very understandably upset and upset usually turned to rage when the Twins were involved. Not that the tactician could really blame them for their reaction. It did help that Bluestreak was there to keep them calm even if it was just by being there needing to be comforted. In fact, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had Bluestreak sandwiched between them as all three of them gazed at a single monitor screen watching First Aid and Swoop work on Nightstrike.

The downed medic looked no better on the screen than he had looked in close proximity.

It would be several orns most likely before Wheeljack could safely leave the med-bay and that depended entirely on when Nightstrike healed enough to make the armor and any other components the Chief Engineer needed to be restored. Nightstrike probably wouldn't online for several solar cycles or be cleared to leave the med-bay for several more afterwards.

At least that's what everyone thought.

xxxxx

Jazz jerked out of recharge two solar cycles after Nightstrike and Wheeljack had been hurt. It still horrified and shocked others that the explosion had happened perhaps a cycle after they had left for battle and the battle for Wheeljack's life began. The Autobots had left in the early morning and had not returned until mid-afternoon. Ratchet, First Aid, Swoop, and Perceptor had worked on both Nightstrike and Wheeljack until well after midnight. And the complete story, as it happened though not the why, had circulated through the Ark's population.

Jazz considered it a small mercy that their third had been unable to feel Nightstrike's pain as he was too far away. The last thing any of the Wreckers needed was 'Storm flipping out at an inopportune time.

He turned his head slightly to the side as he watched his Datsun online his optics, obviously having felt the saboteur's abrupt movement. For an astro-second he pondered what was causing Nightstrike to come online earlier than Ratchet had predicted and expected. The saboteur could already feel the pull of his trine-mate through their bond and he wasn't going to deny Nightstrike.

"Prowl we need ta wake th' Twins an' Blue up an' go ta th' med-bay. 'Strike is in th' process of comin' online. An' he's rather agitated 'bout somethin'. His processors 'ave probably been workin' overtime even while he was offline."

The tactician nodded in agreement. It was rather curious that Nightstrike had come online early. But Jazz seemed to be in a hurry and almost anxious. It made Prowl wonder if the medic was calling out to Jazz through their bond, it was rather plausible.

xxxxx

Ratchet was almost startled when the group consisting of Jazz, Prowl, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and Bluestreak came into the med-bay together. Of course any feeling of startlement or surprise he may have had disappeared when they began to gather around Nightstrike who was obviously coming back into the land of the functioning once more.

Everyone but Jazz backed off when Ratchet came and insisted on some scans and check-ups. It did startle Ratchet when he picked up damage to Nightstrike's optics that had not been detected before. But before he could do more than mention them Jazz intervened.

"Don't worry 'bout 'em Ratchet. I'll take care of it now because ya will insist on it. I was goin' ta do it later because 'Strike don't usually use 'em but ya probably wouldn't let him out of th' 'Bay if I didn't do it now tha' ya noticed th' damage."

Now that was something none of them had expected to hear. So they were in a rather stunned state as Jazz carefully helped Nightstrike sit up and then turn so that no one but Jazz could see his face. Before the saboteur could begin to work Ratchet stopped him even if the CMO made no move to actually see the younger medic's optics.

"Do you even now what you are doing Jazz? I will not have you hurting one of my medics or patients."

"Don't worry 'bout Jazz not knowin' wha' ta do Ratchet. He's my trine-mate and has done this before. Besides, if he needs help all he as ta do is access th' information through our bond. It's one of th' reasons trines were created ya know. Train three mechs or femmes in three different but related things and all three of 'em know it and can do it with a bit of practice. I 'ave even done field surgery through Jazz and 'Storm when one of their teammates at th' time needed immediate medical care."

That fascinated Ratchet and he made a mental note to discuss it with his younger colleague at a later time. But what had his immediate attention, besides the calm and assured way Jazz was going about fixing Nightstrike's optics, was the little piece of information Jazz had just spilled and the implications of it. Nightstrike did not use his optics, had probably not even had them really online at all since he came on the Ark, yet he did everything as if he had the sharpest, clearest sight. Ratchet had known the younger medic's sensors were extraordinarily sensitive, but not sensitive to the extent that optics were practically superfluous to his needs.

"Ya know Ratch, 'Jack is real lucky Nightstrike is so used ta doing everythin' without his optics. If he hadn't then 'Jack probably would 'ave died long before any kind of help got here. Same for if his sensors had been damaged. But they are made of rather durable material an' protected so I ain't surprised."

Ratchet looked at Nightstrike and really looked at the visor that once again covered his optics. Behind him the other four were still more than a little shocked at the revelation that apparently Nightstrike had never actually seen them, any of them except for Jazz and perhaps Inferno.

"Nightstrike I can understand not using your optics, especially if your sensors and neural-net are so sensitive that they are not needed. But why does it look like your optics are online if they really aren't?" That was pure medical curiousity. And he was asking now because he could just tell that his younger colleague's lovers, and the sometimes banes of his existence, were coming out of their shock. Making it likely they would want to talk with his patient while he permitted tham to.

"It's a special sub-routine I programed myself so as ta blend in better. Jazz and 'Storm have the same sub-routine but they don't use it as much as I do. Usually the light intensity of my optics just serve as a indicator of my emotional state. I function just as well without them as I do with them and don't have ta deal with all the extra sensory data."

Well that explained his question and Nightstrike's reason for not using his optics. Though it still fascinated the CMO that the visored medic worked and functioned so well visually blind. Or at least visually blind in the way normal Cybertronians see. There really was no telling or describing what Nightstrike saw or felt. Of course the most amazing thing about it was that no one would have known if Jazz hadn't said something and Nightstrike confirmed it.

xxxxx

Unfortunately for everyone besides Jazz, Nightstrike had other concerns that had nothing to do with resting peaceflly or thorough explanations. In fact, several of them nearly blew a fuse when Nightstrike began to speak again.

"Jazz, I need ta go ta th' lab storage area." When the saboteur very calmly picked up his injured trine-mate more than one protesting voice was heard. Jazz also very calmly addressed their concerns.

"Ya think he would ask me ta take him there of all places if it wasn't important? He is a medic ya know an' he knows his limits. But he also knows his duties which means his health might just take a backseat on th' list of priorities. Ya don't interfere with another mech's job, 'specially one so important ta our cause. So don't argue and pray ta Primus tha' we don't find what we fear." More secrets were unfolding. The only Autobot trine had so many mysteries wrapped around it that it would probably take countless vorn to unravel them.

So there was a seven mech procession down to Wheeljack's ruined lab. There was no way any of them were letting either Jazz or Nightstrike out of their sights, not now that their curiousity had been roused and with Nightstrike in the condition the visored medic was in. Nightstrike might have looked loads better than he had two solar cycles ago but he was still missing a lower section of his left leg and the only colorful thing about his was the blue visor he wore.

More than one of the mechs in the group barely kept from flinching at the state of the lab. It was very apparent that Grapple and Hoist would have their work cut out for them when they began to restore it to it's previous state. It wasn't long before Jazz placed Nightstrike on one of the still intact work tables near the storage area, the only place in the lab not damaged, if only because it was a completely separate room behind a reinforced door. The saboteur went inside and emerged moments later with a supply crate which was set down next to Nightstrike, who not even an astro-second later was looking through it.

Everyone could actually feel the energy from Nightstrike's sensors around them. Ratchet almost protested the younger medic's actions but the deadly focused aura around Nightstrike stayed his words. Besides, it had to be something of importance for the visored medic to let the dampeners on his sensors up to the extent that he was.

The noticable increase in the tension in Nightstrike's frame was worrying as was the same increase in Jazz's. It was obvious that the two trine-mates were communicating to each other, even if only with subtle body language. When Nightstrike brought up a certain component that none of them could identify but obviously meant something to the two trine-mates they knew something was off. The vaguely disbelieving look on Jazz's face plates was rather large clue as well. The component was held up between Nightstrike and Jazz's faces. None of their audience said anything. It was better to just listen and get all that they could out of what they heard before they asked questions.

Jazz spoke first. "Ya have got ta be fragging wit' me. How could it go unnoticed?"

"We 'ave been working on this particular project on an' off for a while. But we didn't 'ave all th' parts needed 'till recently. This came from th' last shipment from Cybertron, directly from th' Iacon Base. It shouldn't 'ave exploded at all, much less ta th' extent it did."

"Then how? Why?"

"Well 'Jack was th' one who was workin' on th' power exorber while I was workin' on th' raw energy storage. Th' _test model_ was only half done and on a much smaller scale than an actually workin' full scale energy field generator. It shouldn't 'ave exploded at all an' wouldn't 'ave if not for an identical component to this little piece of scrap." Nightstrike made a motion with the component in his hand.

"So it came from where I think it did?"

"Right out of th' slag-sucking fragger's lab. I'd recognize his work anywhere," the anger and disdain in Nightstrike's voice was noticable but it turned into remorse and sadness as he kept speaking. "But 'Jack wouldn't. I thought nothing of checkin' th' supplies tha' we didn't make because they come directly from th' Iacon Base. Ya know what tha' means Jazz."

"Ya, I know, it means I need ta get ya ta th' Communications Room because we 'ave a situation tha' needs ta be taken care of." Jazz wasted no time in carefully picking Nightstrike up again but any further movement was momentarily delayed by Prowl speaking.

"What needs to be taken care of?" The tactician trusted Jazz and Nightstrike even though he loathed that the medic was probably causing damage to himself by doing all this in his condition. But he understood duty and dedication so he sought to ease the burden of his friend in any way he could. Besides, he could feel how agitated the Twins were getting and how upset Bluestreak was. None of Nightstrike's lovers like to see the medic hurting, especially when there seemed to be no target to get revenge on. Or at least there had been no target until Jazz and Nightstrike's conversation had made it clear that there had been sabotage of some sort invovled.

What duty Nightstrike had to attend to would soon be made clear. One that was both surprising and not, considering those it was revealed to had already been given clues alluding to such when some of the mysteries about the trine's origins had been unraveled.

xxxxx

By the time the group got to the Communications Room the only ones inside were Optimus Prime and Red Alert. Both of whom were happy to see Nightstrike online but unhappy to see him out of the med-bay where he obviously needed to be if Ratchet's expression was anything to go by. Both had also been informed by Prowl that some of the components from the last shipment from Cybertron had obviously been sabotaged. That had nearly made Red Alert blow a fuse. So they were aware of what was going on but not why Nightstrike had to deal with it. That would soon be explained to everyone's satisfaction.

Jazz lowered his trine-mate into a seat in front of one of the screens. Almost immediately Nightstrike opened one of the compartments in his right arm to pull out a data cable, just as he had done in the med-bay when he was showing why it was a bad idea to cage the Twins.

It soon became obvious, if only because Nightstrike wasn't trying to hide it, that he was connecting to a specific terminal in the Iacon Base. In other words he was successfully hacking into the defense system using special codes and tricks without being detected. An impressed Red Alert even went so far as to ask how the medic had done it. Not that the Securtiy Director was surprised, Nightstrike had been helping him with the security of the Ark when he had the free time.

"I did tell ya when I arrived Red tha' I had experience with defense systems. Ya don't get this posistion without knowin' how ta take down an' get through these kinds of systems. Besides, I did build th' one th' Iacon Base uses. I did say I did tha' sort of stuff in preparation for th' War. Didn't say I stopped. These sort of things never leave ya an' ya never stop doin' what you're good at." Nightstrike did have a point but that did remind them exactly what Nightstrike was good at besides being an engineer and medic.

Jazz held up his hand to stall any more questions from his position directly behind and to the right of Nightstrike. They were the only ones in view of the screen, though the other seven occupants of the room had a good view of the screen.

xxxxx

It wasn't even a klik later that a mech none of them recognized came on screen. Jazz's face plates had gone disturbingly blank reminding everyone in the room just how skilled Jazz was in his chosen profession. Nightstrike was as well as they would find out.

The genuine alarm and worry on the unknown mech's face plates at Nightstrike's condition was wiped away when he focused on both Jazz and Nightstrike and how they held themselves. The deadly intent that seemed to radiate from them was something to pay attention to. As were the words that came out of the mech's vocalizer.

"Commander Jazz, Commander Nightstrike, I take it you have need of us?"

"Yes we do Scattershot." That caught the audience's attention. Scattershot was the designation of the leader of the Technobots. That did explain the concern on the mech's face when he laid optics on Nightstrike. "We have a problem that falls in both Jazz and my division's purviews. We will both _personally_ deal with it." There was no warmth in Nightstrike's voice, in fact it was just this side of icy calm. Rather like the calm before the storm actually which was more than a little unsettling for those who had never heard the medic speak that way.

"Your orders?"

"Some one sent sabotaged parts in th' last shipment from th' Iacon Base. Parts tha' came directly from Shockwave's lab Scattershot-"

"-which means all three divisions 'ave slipped up. Iacon Base has been infiltrated by a saboteur or a spy sent ta plant th' components-"

"-or has been there for an unknown amount of time. Initiate Protocol Centaurus Martyr," Nightstrike paused before the heat returned to his voice with a vengence, not that it was reassuring, "and don't even think about doing anything until Jazz and I get there. That is a _direct order_ Scattershot. Ya all might 'ave been involved in this Primus-forsaken war since ya were all onlined but I'll be fragged before I let any of ya dirty your hands or your sparks doin' tha'."

"Do ya understand your orders operative?" The cool tone of Jazz's voice matched his trine-mate's.

"Perfectly." Scattershot seemed to hesitate for a moment. Jazz and Nightstrike noticed it and interpretted the reason without difficulty. Nightstrike addressed it and tried to reassure his adopted creation at the same time.

"Th' Technobots will be kept up to date on my condition," here Jazz nodded in reassurance," and will be notified of our arrival provided ya are all successful."

That was a gentle jab at the Technobot leader to get his mind off of Nightstrike's injuries and on the mission he had been given. It was obvious that Nightstrike had been one of the victims of the sabotaged components though his adopted Creator wasn't giving him all of the information regarding how. And did he want to know. His gestalt-mates could feel his upset and his anger and were echoing it when they found the reason. It did help that their adopted Creator's trine-mate seemed just as upset, though how they could tell they were exactly sure. The most important thing at the moment though was that they had to find the sorry slagger that had dared cause their adopted Creator and fellow Autobots harm.

"Also, I would suggest if ya want ta come see me on Earth tha' badly tha' ya present a real strong argument next time ya try ta talk Magnus inta it an' 'ave really good blackmail ta back it up. _Fortani Orionus_." And with that mischievious goodbye Nightstrike cut the connection before his stunned adopted creation could react. Jazz chuckled at his trine-mate's form of goodbye because that was Nightstrike's typical wry sense of humor at work. The medic obviously didn't like those he cared for upset. He must also be trying to keep Scattershot focused on the mission with the message his last two words gave.

But the end of that conversation was just the beginning of another one. There really was no way they would get out of explaining this. But this time Nightstrike was going to make Jazz help. And he wasn't above using his injured state against the wily saboteur that was his trine-mate. He did know Jazz inside and out after all and there was no way he was doing all the explaining, especially when Sandstorm wasn't here to take responsibility too.

xxxxx

Jazz resisted the urge to look over at Nightstrike. He had just known making his trine-mate be the one to always explain things was going to come back to bite him in the aft. Leaving Nightstrike with the task of explaining interfacing and bonding to not only the Aerialbots and the Protectobots but also the Dinobots probably hadn't been a good idea. But really, Nightstrike was probably the only one qualified to explain the specific bonds involved with gestalt teams, especially when their situation was remarkably like a trine's except with more mechs involved.

Well at least he had won that particular bet with 'Storm concerning what Nightstrike would do when he finally got fed up which meant he would be receiving some of that special high-grade Nightstrike specially made. The only thing that equalled Nightstrike's high-grade was the high-grade the Twins made and just as coveted. Though Jazz knew that none of the Ark crew except for Inferno and himself had ever sampled the special stuff Nightstrike made. He knows this because there would sure as Pit be many requests for the Trans Am to make it.

Many of the Ark crew were under the mistaken impression that Nightstrike was friendly if a bit quiet. His trine-mate was only amiable to a certain point then he was anywhere from subtley to overtly hostile. Growing up in Kaon and living, not to mention working, so long in their profession had done his medically inclined trine-mate no favors. He knew their mistake was in that they all saw him solely as a medic and because of his actions treated him as they would Ratchet but on a smaller scale because he wasn't as outwardly in a perpetual bad like the CMO. Almost made him pity them when they realized. But only almost.

The entertainment he would get out of it erased all thoughts of pity.

Though he did find it ironic that Nightstrike took two former gladiators and a sniper for lovers, especially considering the varying temperaments among the four of them. But they just seemed to be right for each other so he refrained from bringing it up. Often.

Maybe he should ask Nightstrike if he had a thing for playing doctor with them? But not right now when he could feel his trine-mate's ire growing through their bond. Apparently Nightstrike was a little more 'sensitive' at the moment than he had thought and was picking up his thoughts. It really didn't pay sometimes to have Gifted mechs for trine-mates regardless of the fact you yourself are Gifted as well.

Finally he did risk a glance Nightstrike and was only slightly surprised to see his trine-mate still hooked into the system and working. This was Nightstrike's way of distancing himself from the situation because he couldn't get up and leave the room without help.

"Well, ya know how one of th' reasons ya thought 'Strike was bein' transferred here was ta make him be a little more accepting ta th' position of bein' an officer?" This question earned him nods from everyone in the room besides Nightstrike's lovers. None of those three had known that, but it did make sense with how authoritive Nightstrike could be.

"Th' reason he don't appear ta 'ave any interest in bein' an officer is because he already technically is one." The stunned looks he was garnering told Jazz that this explanation might take awhile. Of all the fragging times for Nightstrike to decide to be obstinate it had to be now with this discussion. 'Storm owed him big time.

"Our trine was th' creators of th' Wreckers an' some of th' foundin' members of th' Autobots. Is it really tha' surprisin' tha' those aren't th' only things we had a hand in? We created th' branch I'm th' official an' publically acknowledged commander of. In reality there are three divisions in our branch wit' each of us in charge of one of th' divisions, though we can an' 'ave used our authority in another division because were are all co-commanders of our branch. 'Strike an' 'Storm's bein' officers isn't publically known so tha' th' 'Cons can't use it against us. 'Cause I'm the only acknowledged Commander of th' Special Ops even if th' 'Cons put me out of commission there are two others who can keep th' Ops from fallin' apart. Understandin' me so far?" Nods came from everyone in the room but Jazz noticed more than one pair of optics lingering on Nightstrike who now had several data cables out and was even further hooked into the system.

"It was decided between th' three of us tha' because I'm th' best one at dealin' wit' others tha' I would be th' visible Commander of Special Operations. Tha' decision was further helped along when I was made th' Third-In-Command. 'Storm's division is in charge of Intelligence, Counter-Intelligence, Long-term Espionage and Infiltration, as well as Acquistion. My division is in charge of Protection, Sabotage, Short-term Espionage and Infiltration, as well as Scare Tactics. Nightstrike's division is Internal Security, T&I, Logistics, Administration, and Training." Here Jazz paused but before he could continue Nightstrike's voice was heard throughout the room.

"Why don't ya just say it plainly Jazz? It really makes no difference ta me because anyone with a functionin' processor could figure out what you're not sayin', eventually. Coatin' it in oil ain't goin' ta work, no matter what kind of grief ya think you're tryin' to save me from. I'm no more ashamed of what I 'ave done in th' name of duty ta save others from 'avin' ta in my place than ya are. What Jazz here isn't sayin' is tha' I'm in charge of th' Black Ops." Not once during his speech did Nightstrike's attention leave the screen in front of him.

Those words hung heavily in the air. It was one thing to know intellectually that such things were going on behind the scenes and unspoken of but quite another to actually know who is in charge of those unspoken of things. Not that it disturbed any of those in the room, Primus knows the things they themselves have done in the name of duty, but it was a little surprising to know that Nightstrike who seemed to have an aversion to being an officer was one. And an officer in charge of one of the most mentally brutal divisions, especially if some of the things his division was in charge of was what they all thought they were. That would explain the comment Nightstrike had made when he was giving Scattershot orders.

Jazz, who had already had a serious look on his face plates, now had a somber one that spoke of his acceptance of Nightstrike's wishes on the matter. None of them saw the guilty relief in the saboteur optics though Nightstrike felt it through their bond.

_/Don't feel guilty about not wanting to lie to them Jazz. I knew you didn't want to hide this from Prowl, just like I don't want to hide this from Bluestreak, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker. It is for the best that what we really do be revealed to those who can at least be understanding of our position, for they all have regrets just as we do. And all of them would do anything so another would not have to suffer in their place. None of them would push themselves as hard as they do if they did not feel this way as well./_

Trust his trine-mate to find just the right words to bolster his confidence and ease him. He would really have to thank Nightstrike with something special when the medic was better and this mess was dealt with.

"All three of us 'ave been in th' Assault unit an' 'ave jurisdiction but we put Springer in charge seein' as th' Wreckers are the main Assault and First Response unit. Springer is also one of th' few who know 'bout all three of us bein' officers 'cause we specifically put him in charge of th' Wreckers an' he needed ta know why 'Storm would 'ave ta disappear every so often. The expertise an' skills of all three divisions overlap purposely though some operatives work solely in a single division if their skills are suited to tha' particular division. As a result Assassination is handled by all three division as is Retrival."

When Jazz paused again to let that go through their processors Optimus asked the two questions that Jazz had trying to avoid earlier before Nightstrike had intervened.

"What exactly does Internal Security entail? And what does T&I stand for?"

"Internal Security is basically th' Hunter unit which hunts down spies and traitors who are then brought back and handed over to th' T&I unit. What Nightstrike just did was order th' leader of th' tha' particular Hunter unit ta hunt down th' spy or traitor who successfully sabotaged th' supplies we received. T&I stands for exactly what you're thinkin' of. Its th' Torture an' Interrogation unit."

"Before ya ask why I'm in charge of tha' particular unit Optimus think 'bout just who an' what I am. As a medic and a fighter I 'ave intimate knowledge of Cybertronian physiology. Besides, it is best tha' th' one who has seen an' endured an' can repair be th' one in charge of it. We, all three of us, were 'born in blood an' baptized by fire' so to speak an' would never ask others ta do our job. Better th' ones who 'ave th' experience an' actually know what they're doin' be in command." Nightstrike was being more brutally honest than usual, but that was probably because the topic of explanation was something he didn't like discussing under almost any circumstance.

Optimus looked at the back of Nightstrike's black helm which was similar in structure to Jazz's, except the medic's crests were longer in length and not as wide. "Then why do I have no knowledge of any of this?"

That question made Nightstrike turn to focus his attention for the first time on something other than the screen in front of him. "Plausible deniability. It is rather impairitive that ya come out of th' War without any concrete knowledge of th' things tha' go on in th' background. Because I can more than assure ya tha' th' second th' War ends, especially if th' Autobots win, tha' th' wealthy Neutrals tha' couldn't be bothered ta get their hands dirty will just jump on your 'apparent' soft-sparkedness ta reform th' Council," the scorn in the medic's voice when speaking of the Neutrals was blistering as was his sarcasm when speaking of Optimus's supposedly soft spark. "None of them will think twice 'bout using blackmail an' threats if they think they can control ya. Because we all know th' Matrix of Leadership would never choose one of them even if they did manage ta kill ya for their own ambitions. Some of them even went so far as ta create 'guards' to save themselves from havin' ta deal with fightin'. That's how I ended up th' adopted Creator ta a gestalt team. I rescued a group of newly created 'cannon fodder' from a wealthy sparkless glitch of a Neutral.That's exactly what he called them too. I had ta help them choose their own designations because they hadn't been given any."

There really was no softening Nightstrike's blunt and brutal honesty, no matter how shocking the facts that came out of his vocalizer.

Nightstrike paused for a moment, tilting his head slightly as if he were evaluating Optimus for something. "Not even a quarter of th' reports or logistics or plannin' of th' missions done by th' Special Ops unit actually end up on your desk at all. Most of those tha' even reach this level of command go through Prowl an' on occasion Red Alert. Th' only ones who are aware of th' officer status of 'Storm an' myself besides Springer is Kup an' Ultra Magnus. Elita-One is not aware just as none of ya were until now. Though I will say right now tha' th' protocol of makin' sure ya Optimus aren't kept up to date on everything we do will continue."

Before Optimus could protest Jazz took up where his trine-mate left off. "Sentinel gave us our Special Ops officer status before th' War officially started so ya can't strip us of it. Special Ops is semi-autonomous an' always has been so tha' your designation can't be dragged through th' mud. Kup worked with out trine while Sentinel was Prime so he's always known. Ultra Magnus is an old friend of 'Strike and Kup who was given command of th' Iacon Base when it was built. No one would ever suspect 'Strike or 'Storm ta be officers much less Special Ops with what they publically do so everything has worked out so far. So please just leave it Optimus. Ya don't need ta add ta th' burdens ya already carry."

Jazz and Nightstrike were glad and relieved to see the acceptance of their wishes in more than one set of optics. But Nightstrike did have one last point to make, even though it wouldn't go over well with some of them.

"And Jazz and myself will be goin' ta Iacon when th' culprit is caught. But tha' will probably take a while ta do considerin' Iacon Base is one of th' most secure meanin' th' culprit is rather skilled. I should be fully operational by tha' time an' if I 'ave my way 'Jack will be on th' road ta recovery."

xxxxx

Nightstrike's prediction proved true in regards to his recovery and catching the traitor. What he hadn't accounted for was it happening the day he was officially released from the med-bay. He and Jazz had left the astro-second the news had reached them and didn't return to the Ark for an orn and a half in the middle of the night.

This meant Nightstrike hadn't really had the chance to talk to his lovers in quite some time. His adherence to duty in the face of such damage might have been temporarily tolerated by Ratchet but the astro-second the discussion in the Communications Room ended Ratchet's inner-medic came out with a vengence. Nightstrike had been put in stasis-lock when he arrived back in the med-bay and had been allowed no visitors on medic's orders. When he was finally well enough be Ratchet's standards to come online again he was only fit enough to help with Wheeljack's reconstruction.

He could only dodge the acid pellet that was the conversation about his voluntary visual blindness with his lovers for so long. It really didn't matter that it really hadn't been his decision to not see them. Nightstrike was rather sure Ratchet thought they would upset him if they brought it up while he was self-repairing in the med-bay. And no one upset or messed with Ratchet's patients while they were convalescing without the threat of being turned into sentient toasters hanging over their cranial units. It seems even the Twins were refraining from testing the frayed nerves of the CMO who was clearly stressed over his own lover's condition.

Nightstrike were so tired both physically and mentally by the time they returned to the Ark from Iacon that Jazz had no trouble dragging his trine-mate into the quarters the saboteur shared with Prowl. Of course the saboteur was just as exhausted as Nightstrike. Both of them ended up in the large berth with the recharging Prowl between them. That the tactician didn't even twitch at being moved around just showed how tired the SIC was himself. Needless to say he was more than a little surprised to find himself in the position he was in early the next morning when he onlined.

xxxxx

Prowl's movement brought Nightstrike out of recharge. He definitely hadn't recharged as much as he would have liked but medics were practically chronically tired so he wasn't all that bothered by the early awakening. Though the look of shock on Prowl's face plates was more than worth onlining early. But the medic took that as his cue to leave so he rose from the berth making sure not to disturb his still recharging trine-mate.

"Go back inta recharge logic-bot. Jazz will appreciate ya being here when he onlines. Besides, I know ya 'ave th' day off today. Spend th' day with Jazz."

"It's nice to see you both home. They have been quite the handful, especially since they haven't seen you since the meeting in the Communications Room. None of them took your being sent to Cybertron the astro-second you got released from the med-bay while they were all on shift well at all. Ratchet has been getting even less peace from them for keeping visitors away."

Nightstrike didn't have to ask who the tactician was speaking of. He didn't doubt that Prowl was even understating how his lovers had been acting, especially the Twins. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were both former gladiators with possessive and protective streaks mega-miles wide. Being forcefully deprived of one lover while having the other very upset was not a good combination. Though that did go a long way in explaining why the mini-bots had been trying to make themselves scarce while he was convalescing. Both Twins were in fouler moods than normal.

Ratchet hadn't left the med-bay once since the incident. The CMO practically guarded it like a dragon guarded gold so absolutely no one could sneak in. No one tried to test the CMO's ferocious temper when he was throwing wrenches first and asking questions later.

This all would have amused Nightstrike more if he wasn't so aware of the ultimate source of all of it. That and he didn't like any he cared for upset.

"I'm sure they 'ave been an' I would apologize but Ratchet is really th' one ya'd need ta hear tha' from, but ya never will, at least not until 'Jack is completely better an' Ratchet's processor really lets him think 'bout everythin' tha's happened."

"You are most likely correct in your assessment. You are feeling well?"

"Just a little tired but what medic isn't? Otherwise I'm relatively fine. I must 'ave been more tired than I had previously thought last night though for Jazz ta be able ta bring me in here. Not that I mind rechargin' with ya two but as ya said they 'ave been a handful lately."

"Then it is a good thing that you have awoken so early. They are almost certainly still in recharge. You will be able to surprise them with your presence when they online. And you yourself could get some more recharge. I will make sure the Twins and Bluestreak have the day off as well."

"Thanks Prowl an' 'ave a good rest with Jazz curled up against ya." With that parting remark and a soft kiss on the lips Nightstrike left a mildly surprised Prowl behind in the quarters he shared with Jazz.

It didn't take long to slip into the room the Twins shared and to stop and stare. Apparently they had taken it into their processors to knock down the wall between the room the Twins shared and the one Bluestreak and Nightstrike had shared, thus combining the rooms. The private washracks in what had been Nightstrike and Bluestreak's quarters had also been enlarged while the one in the Twins's quarters had been removed. The berth that the Twins and Bluestreak were currently recharging on was large enough fit Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime, or the Twins, Bluestreak, Jazz, Prowl, and Nightstrike himself.

He did notice that while some of his things had been moved his shelf of sculptures had remained untouched. Just looking at them made him wonder how his lovers would react if they knew he had created those sculptures with only the memory of touch. Of course his artistry brought up the small problem he had at the moment. Leaving as soon as he left the med-bay had left him with no time to be repainted so he was still currently primer gray. Maybe if Sunstreaker was in a good mood the golden warrior would take pity on him and help him restore his black and silver coloring.

Feeling tired but not wanting to recharge Nightstrike made himself comfortable in a chair beside the berth where Sunstreaker was laying. Just seeing the sleeping arrangement made him smile because it showed how much the Twins cared and how overprotective they were. Bluestreak was in the middle with Sideswipe against the wall and Sunstreaker nearest the door. Both of the Twins would be in prime positions to deal with any intruders while whoever was in the middle was relatively protected.

The lights had come on to a dim setting when he entered the room even if they were not necessary. Supporting his head with his head and his arm on the arm of the chair Nightstrike simply basked in the presence of his lovers. He didn't even notice when his slipped into stand-by mode which was the medic equivalent of a rather light recharge cycle, though the Special Ops were known to use it as well. He wouldn't be in it for long.

xxxxx

Sunstreaker really wasn't certain at first what had roused him out of recharge but he quickly figured it out. There right beside him in a chair was Nightstrike who looked to be in recharge. But it wouldn't have been the first time he had thought as much and had that not be the case. Knowing that Nightstrike didn't use his optics made that little trick make a lot of sense. And the golden warrior was proved correct when a dearly missed voice rose from the medic's vocalizer.

"Good mornin' Sunshine, ya look radiant today." Apparently his visor-wearing lover was in a flirting mood this morning. But that didn't stop the pleased feeling that rose up inside himself at the compliment his medic had given him, especially when he hadn't been able to see said medic in almost three orns.

Sunstreaker moved to pull Nightstrike into the berth with them and succeded with little difficulty. The movement did rouse his current berth-mates who were now rather curious as to what the golden Lamborghini was doing. Curiousity fled and was replaced by pleasure and happiness when they discovered Nightstrike in the berth with them in Sunstreaker's possessive hold, even if the medic wasn't in his normal spot in the middle with Bluestreak.

"Miss me tha' much Sunshine? Not tha' I mind, it will probably save Prowl a lot of grief an' foul temper from what I've been told."

"You've talked to Prowl? When did you do that? When did you get back?" Bluestreak asked.

"I was too tired ta care where I recharged late last night when we got back. Jazz took me ta his quarters an' we ended up on th' berth with Prowl in th' middle. Our dear tactician was more than a little surprised ta find himself with two more bodies in th' berth this mornin' than then there were when he went inta recharge." The amusement in Nightstrike's voice was as clear as day. Of course when one considers what Prowl's reaction must have been then it is completely understandable.

Finding out Nightstrike had not come straight to them when he arrived home would have been much more upsetting if they had not all been intimately familiar with how the medic acted when he was too tired to really care where he recharged. And he had come straight to them when he onlined so that was fine. All they really wanted was to have Nightstrike there with them after being separated, again, for so long.

"Nightstrike..." The quiet tone Sideswipe used told the medic all he needed to know. That discussion about his voluntary visual blindness was being brought up. And it didn't surprise him in the least that Sideswipe would be the one to bring it up. Bluestreak wouldn't push and Sunstreaker probably would have waited to get him alone to ask.

"This is about not usin' my optics ain't it?" Nightstrike made sure his whole countenance was relaxed as he sat up to face all of them. He didn't want to hide this from them because really there was no reason to. When he explained the Twins would understand and Bluestreak would accept it.

"We talked about it and we wanted you to know we aren't angry that you hadn't told us. In fact, it would go a long way in explaining how you liked to be in contact and touch us so much." Sideswipe was smiling as he said this.

"It's really sort of flattering actually, that you like us enough without ever seeing exactly what we look and still are our lovers, especially when it's obvious you could have just stayed with Jazz even after you got him together with Prowl." Bluestreak had that sweet flustered look on his face he got when he thought he was babbling.

"Why?" Sunstreaker simply asked. This garnered him looks from Bluestreak and Sideswipe but they could see the point. Nightstrike hadn't even bothered letting the sub-routine that lit up his optics come online.

"'Ave any of ya noticed how Jazz always seems ta know when someone has a problem or isn't feelin' well emotionally?" They weren't sure where there lover was going with this question but it had to have some revelance or he wouldn't have asked. But they had noticed Jazz's uncanny knowing of how others were feeling so they nodded.

"Ya see all of our trine is Gifted, lots of Cybertronians are they just don't know how ta unlock their gifts or how exactly ta use them. Some Cybertronians 'ave stronger, more varied Gifts than others. All of our trine is empathetic. Sensors are based on feelin' an' I 'ave some of th' most sensitive senors ever built so I 'ave th' strongest empathy in th' trine. Tha' I'm a master of Circuit-Su which is heavily mentally oriented doesn't help. I might be able ta process all th' information now an' had th' ability back when I was a younglin' but I didn't 'ave th' control."

Nightstrike paused to gather his thoughts for a moment before continuing. His lovers's optics never left his face.

"It was hard not bein' completely submersed in th' emotions of others, especially when you're in th' middle of th' Pit 'bout ta fight. Th' emotions rolling off th' crowd an' th' other fighters is hard ta ignore. Th' fights I had before I had any kind of control ended with th' other fighter being severely maimed or deactivated. Taking away some of the sensory data helped with my control an' not being able ta see my opponent helped take away some of the battle-lust. It became a habit, a useful one, so I kept doin' it an' don't really even think 'bout it at all."

"So it doesn't bother you at all to not see even though you are able to without trouble now?" asked Bluestreak.

"No it doesn't Sweetspark, though it seems ta bother all of ya. Seeing without sight is something I just can't describe with words because they pale in comparison," Nightstrike paused to reach over to caress Bluestreak's cheek. "None of ya seemed ta understand how utterly beautiful ya all are ta me. I might not see ya with my optics but I have seen ever inch of ya with my hands, my sensors, and my Gift. And it makes ya all just that much more precious and special and beautiful beyond words."

They almost protested when Nightstrike rose from the berth to walk over to his shelf on the other side of the now enlarged room but they were all too busy taking the touching words Nightstrike had spoken to them to spark. Each of them were aware their medic was like Sunstreaker in that he usually let his actions speak louder than his words. So hearing him actually say those things was special.

xxxxx

Bluestreak could say without a doubt that he wasn't the only one surprised when Nightstrike brought what was obviously three miniature sculptures back over to the berth. Of course surprise didn't cover how they felt when they noticed that the three sculptures were very detailed miniatures of themselves. Nightstrike apparently hadn't been joking when he said he had seen every inch of them with his hands.

"I 'aven't made sculptures in many vorns but th' three of ya inspired me. They are all th' proof I can give tha' I see ya all without sight."

Then Sideswipe decided that it was time to lighten the atmosphere.

"You know, this does explain how you're able to say no to Bluestreak and Fireflight when they turn those big blue optics on you. You're cheating!" The happy grin and joking tone took out any sting the playful accusation might have had.

"No, I 'ave ta contend with th' pleadin' in his voice an' his emotions swirlin' around me. An' if ya like th' sculpture of yourself so much ya should look at th' others on th' shelf Loverling. They are 'bout th' only artistic things I do."

"Speaking of artistry Nightstrike you look to be in need of a coat of paint, not to mention a good waxing."

"If you're volunteerin' Sunshine then by all means do so an' I'll return th' favor."

"Nightstrike we have shifts today-"

"Don't worry Blue. Prowl gave all of us th' day off today so we can spend it together."

That got everyone off the berth and moving around. Nightstrike sat down on the berth watching his lovers get ready for the day. Sideswipe and Bluestreak were discussing just what the four of them could do together after Sunstreaker restored Nightstrike to his former coloring. The golden artist seemed to thinking of just which supplies to use on Nightstrike's frame when Nightstriek's words penetrated his processor.

"You're all as beautiful ta th' optics as ya are ta th' other senses."

All three of them turned to look at their medic to see exactly what he meant when the light of his optics, subtley different to the light they were used to but exactly like the light that emanated from Jazz's.

Nightstrike was actually seeing them for the first time.


End file.
